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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193807">on preferences of cake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindofspecificstore/pseuds/kindofspecificstore'>kindofspecificstore</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(depending on your headcanon i guess), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asexual Patrick Brewer, Autumn, Halloween, Let Alexis Rose Eat, M/M, Mean Girls References, One Shot, and a glimpse of aromantic stevie budd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kindofspecificstore/pseuds/kindofspecificstore</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>David rolls his eyes, moving in closer to put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. His face has since relaxed, and he lets their volleys fall in the space between them.</p>
<p>“What do you mean it’s your week?” David asks honestly, rubbing at Patrick’s shoulders.</p>
<p>(or, it's Hallowe'en and Patrick wants cake)</p>
<p>(or, what if I tried to write an ace-centric fic that didn't involve a sexuality crisis?)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>102</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>on preferences of cake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hhhhhhhhhhhh okay. Posting this is nerve-wracking because I've never written something this personal. When I found out about Asexual Awareness Week (Ace Week) being October 25th-31st, I jokingly said I wanted a fic about aces owning Hallowe'en in my tumblr tags... then Daira told me I should write the thing. So here it is.</p>
<p>This fic would not have seen the light of day without the encouragement of <a href="https://ohhalesyeah.tumblr.com/">Daira</a>, <a href="https://galaxygalpals.tumblr.com/">Heather</a>, and <a href="https://believeinthepoweroflove.tumblr.com/">Cass</a>. And many, many thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishyspots/pseuds/fishyspots">fishyspots</a> for the kind and enthusiastic beta.</p>
<p>To my fellow a-spec folks in this fandom, this fic is for you. Have a wonderful week!</p>
<p>To my allo friends (those who don't identify as a-spec), thanks for being here. The care and consideration you put into the ratings and tags of whatever you create or rec means the world. Every a-spec person is different, but it's little things like this that help folks like me engage with fandom works on our own terms. Mwah. </p>
<p>(Also this is just my personal headcanon- I just have A Lot of thoughts about Patrick's relationship with adjectives. I'm not claiming this is absolute truth or trying to deny/suppress his sexuality as a character sssoooo please don't hurt me.)</p>
<p>Okay I'll step down from my soap box now.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s an early October evening, one of those nights meant for homemade soups and cuddling under a quilt. They’re wrapped up on the couch in Patrick’s apartment, watching </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mean Girls</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the laptop as the fireplace candles flicker. This is the one movie that they’ve both seen dozens of times. Rachel always felt some sort of spiritual connection to it since she was both a mathlete and a redhead, so Patrick was subjected to many a viewing in high school. But that handful of memories has blurred and faded into the background ever since the first time David heard him quote along with the entire burn book reading. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Cady Heron is explaining why girls can dress up as “total sluts” for Hallowe’en, and Patrick starts to shift in his seat on the couch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” David mumbles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Doooo you find that attractive?” Patrick asks. He squints at the screen as Karen opens the door in her little mouse costume. Since the only woman David’s been with that he knows personally is Stevie, he thinks it’s interesting to figure out if he has a type when it comes to the other end of the gender spectrum.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, no. I mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes </span>
  </em>
  <span>I would, if Alexis hadn’t worn an outfit just like that to Jared Leto’s Hallowe’en party.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh,” Patrick nods, trying to absorb all that was in David’s sentence. “Isn’t that the same party you tried to deliver pizza to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That reminds me!” David sits up and pauses the movie, conveniently finding a tangent he can jump onto. Patrick stares back at him incredulously. David Rose never pauses a movie unless he needs to run to the kitchen for more snacks. “Alexis and Ted are going to host a Hallowe’en party at the end of the month-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure they don’t want to wait until November?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of David’s brows twitches. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Anyway</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They’re hosting a Hallowe’en party, and regardless of what your feelings are on couple’s costumes, we should find you something,” he shimmies, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>sexy</span>
  </em>
  <span> to wear.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick tries to keep his expression unchanged and patient, but his lips press together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s eyes fly open as he immediately catches himself. “Right, sorry. Poor word choice on my part; let me try again. I would love to find something daring and handsome for you to wear.” He pokes Patrick’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick chuckles. He’s happy he didn’t have to explain himself again (not that it took very much the first time).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t like it, David. It’s not something I connect with. Like it doesn’t…like it doesn’t fit. Y’know?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s eyes soften as he leans down to drop a kiss on Patrick’s shoulder. “You’d tell me, right? If I ever said something that makes you feel uncomfortable and I didn’t catch it?” His voice goes quiet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick inhales sharply through his nose and reaches out to grab David’s face in his hands. He doesn’t speak until his partner is looking at him directly, with those beautiful brown eyes that could tell a thousand stories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Patrick whispers, leaning in to kiss the worry off of David’s face. “Always,” he says into his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s partly a promise to David, but it’s also one to himself. There were early days in their relationship where he'd feel himself spiral, wondering if David would ever find him boring or not adventurous enough in bed. What would happen if Patrick couldn’t give David all that he needed? Patrick knows he’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>broken</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he’s constantly wondering if he will ever be </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David leans out of their embrace, looking soft and misty eyed. And as if he’s been reading Patrick’s thoughts, he soothes them with a simple and broken “I love you, you know that right?” Patrick must not nod clearly enough, because David decides to tack on an “</span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>of you,” leaning in to press their foreheads together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, Patrick breaks into a smile and pulls David’s torso in closer. It’s an awkward reach to restart the movie, but it gives them a chance to resettle so David’s lying with his head in Patrick’s lap. He absentmindedly cards his fingers through David’s hair and laughs along when a distressed zombie bride Cady scares the daylights out of Damien and Janice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most nights in fall end like this for them, while the days are filled with restocking the wool sweaters and heavy duty hand creams. The sand and stone colour palette of the apothecary takes on an extra rustic flare with the collection of pumpkins and squashes outside the steps, the canvas of changing leaves bringing a pop of colour through the windows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A couple weeks later, on a sunny afternoon, David is having an in-depth conversation with Connor, who’s complaining about the assholes on the Schitt’s Creek football team. Normally this would be Patrick’s area of expertise, but since opening the apothecary Connor has deemed David a respectable person. Now, the two of them can commiserate on how removed they are from organized team sports.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick would like to leave them alone to chat in the store, but when more teens from the after-school crowd come in, he has to come out onto the shop floor to be an extra pair of eyes. There’s no way they’re losing more product to Connor’s inconsiderate peers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He has a polite conversation with a group of girls about the new stone-pressed hand bound notebooks (apparently they’re becoming a new trend at the school thanks to Alexis’s legacy), before he migrates towards the till to cash them out. David and Connor skirt politely over to the refrigerator to give them space. The girls clear out, but first they ask Connor if he wants to join them for smoothies at the cafe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Save me a seat.” He smiles gratefully at them. David smiles almost proudly at Patrick, as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>see, he has friends now. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Patrick smiles back, a silent </span>
  <em>
    <span>good for him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He wishes he had known himself as well as Connor does at his age.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should get going.” Connor gestures towards the door. “Nice flag, by the way,” his chin juts towards the jar full of artisanal pencils. Connor’s look is knowing, but David stares at the jar as if it’s an anomaly. As Connor slips out the front door, Patrick watches David peer closer at the tiny piece of fabric: stripes of black, grey, white and purple nestled amongst the collection of twigs. David’s hands are tightly clasped together, as if he’s trying to stop himself from pinching the flag and holding it out at arm’s length.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this doing here?” David unsuccessfully masks his agitation with curiosity. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick snickers. He knows this is simply another incident to tell alongside the plunger takeover of 2017. “It’s my week, David,” Patrick challenges him, leaning casually on the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David squints and cocks his head. “That’s June, honey. Don’t think the rainbow mood board you made for me hasn’t been seared behind my eyelids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, for someone new to Pinterest, it was a pretty good board,” Patrick deflects.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David rolls his eyes, moving in closer to put his hands on Patrick’s shoulders. His face has since relaxed, and he lets their volleys fall in the space between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean it’s your week?” David asks honestly, rubbing at Patrick’s shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick’s eyes light up as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He thumbs quickly through his bookmarked webpages, finding it easily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?” He shows the screen to David. “Ace week: October 25th-31st.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that’s nice,” David takes his phone and tries to parse through the page. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So technically,” a grin spreads across Patrick’s face, “I own Hallowe’en.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s mouth opens then closes, trying to come up with something smart to retort back. “Should I get you a cake, or…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick shrugs. “I mean, sure. I’ll always choose cake,” Patrick’s laughing on the inside at his own joke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David, if you were to be offered sex or cake, which would you choose?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, what kind of cake is this? Is it an authentic Austrian Sachertorte, or some sad excuse for a sponge with whipped cream on top from Brebners?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick laughs. “Cake, David. The answer is always cake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oooooh. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” David gives him a perfunctory nod. “I see what you’re getting at. So you do want cake then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“David, it was a joke, I don’t need a cake to celebrate some arbitrary week the internet told me I should take pride in.” The bell rings to signal that another person has walked through the door, but Patrick is still focused on his boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David speaks in a low tone. “No, but this is important to you, so we are going to get you a cake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this I hear about cake?” A cheery voice comes from behind them. Ted is in his running gear, gym bag slung over his shoulder.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick opens his mouth to speak, but David beats him to it. “We were just thinking,” David blinks rapidly while gesturing with his fingers in the air. His words are short, like he’s forming the thought as he presses on. “About bringing a cake to your Hallowe’en party.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, cool!” Ted smiles and nods. Patrick notices David break out into his customer service smile in an attempt to match Ted’s boundless enthusiasm. “So Alexis remembered to tell you it was a potluck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David tries to hide a grimace behind his smile, which to Patrick is nothing short of hilarious. “A potluck. Yup. She sure did. And that’s why we were talking about cake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ted gives them two thumbs up, then heads the other end of the shop for a restock of the Cedar Dragon cologne. David mouths a fuming </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh my god </span>
  </em>
  <span>to Patrick, which can only mean that Alexis forgot to tell David it was a potluck and now they’re stuck with bringing a cake. It’s an unfortunate place to be in, as the closest either of them have gotten to making something </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bake Off</span>
  </em>
  <span> worthy are microwavable mug cakes…which are typically enjoyed after a “quality check” of the Hockley Farms products. Patrick shrugs back at him before turning to Ted to ask about his and Alexis’s Hallowe’en costumes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>bug</span>
  </em>
  <span> you with the details, but I c-</span>
  <em>
    <span>ant </span>
  </em>
  <span>tell you until the party,” Ted winks while they ring him up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when Patrick shows up at the party Saturday night, It doesn’t come as surprise when Alexis answers the door in a tiny, tight and sparkly purple dress, proudly showing off the leaf crown and antenna Ted made her so they can be Flick and Atta from </span>
  <em>
    <span>A Bug’s Life. </span>
  </em>
  <span>If David were here, he’d probably make some snide comment about how smitten Alexis must be if she’s accessorizing with things made from an off-brand craft store, but he’s still making his way back from the bakery in Elmdale. Seeing as it’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hallowe’en, they both went to work in their everyday clothes and won’t see each other’s costumes in full until David arrives at Ted’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexis leads him into the living room. “You look </span>
  <em>
    <span>great</span>
  </em>
  <span>, by the way,” she smirks and shimmies her shoulders before going in for a classic nose boop. Patrick blushes, taking sudden interest in his uncharacteristically red chucks. Patrick </span>
  <em>
    <span>feels </span>
  </em>
  <span>great. He’s also both surprised and delighted that David let him borrow a piece from his wardrobe for the occasion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ted’s living room is decked out in pumpkins and cobwebs, complete with jelly bats lining the windows. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Purple People Eater </span>
  </em>
  <span>plays from the speakers, while dinner is spread out buffet style so people can pick from the table as they please. It’s a quieter affair compared to Asbestos Fest, but still livelier than their most recent dinner party. Patrick notices Ted look up from an animated conversation on the couch to greet him, blue antenna dancing as he points to the kitchen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beers are in the fridge! Help yourself, bud!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, man.” Patrick gives him a thumbs up and heads towards the kitchen. He has to sort through the electric coloured variety of Alexis’s coolers in order to find the beer. Amongst the clinking of glass bottles, excited gasps and squeals can be heard from the living room. Patrick is rifling through the drawers in search of a bottle opener, when a soft and sultry voice comes up behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey there, stud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick chuckles. “That’s not the line, but okay.” He turns around mid-sentence, stopping in his tracks at the sight of David in a Pink Ladies jacket and a long skirt, staring back at him with a twisted smile. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> what David’s costume was going to be, but this was the very first time he was seeing it </span>
  <em>
    <span>on </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look-” Patrick tries to form a coherent thought, but it’s near impossible. He’s never seen David in a full skirt before and he likes what he sees. A lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>David’s smile turns shy, closing in on Patrick to get a firm grip on his own leather jacket. Patrick watches him take it all in; the sneakers, the too-tight straight leg denim rolled up at the ankles, the tight white t-shirt, right up to his attempt at gelled-back hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you-,” David’s eyes sparkle, pupils dilating.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick doesn’t bother to wait for David to finish his sentence, putting his beer on the counter so he can move in for a kiss. But the moment is quickly squashed by a wave of iridescent purple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ew! Could you two press pause for, like, a hot second please?” Alexis stumbles in with two plates in hand, followed closely behind by Stevie. They pull apart quickly, a talent honed from catching spare moments at the motel. “Omigod, Patrick. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to try the cake David brought,” Alexis exclaims, shoving one of the orange and white polka-dotted paper plates at his face. Stevie looks on with a bemused smirk, unconsciously running a hand over one of her Wednesday Addams braids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick watches Alexis take a big forkful of marble sponge, bubbling with childlike excitement. “Normally I let David eat my icing for me, but this marshmallow stuff is, like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> yummy.” Alexis’s antennas bobble along as she does a full body shimmy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It must be a good cake. What began as a joke between the two of them might actually be the perfect addition to the party. Patrick looks down at his plate for closer inspection, and is caught by the artistry within a single slice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The marble is enclosed with grey and black fondant, stretched out white marshmallow goo to look like spider webs, and even small pops of green and purple icing with candy monster eyes. He tries to bring it as close to his eye line as possible without getting any traces of frosting on his nose. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Did David? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The green is for me,” Stevie calls from the fridge as she reaches for another beer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick looks back at David, stunned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He did.</span>
  </em>
  <span> David bats a hand in the air, as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>it was nothing. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Patrick must still look like he’s processing, because David makes a quick move for the fork, and suddenly has the perfect bite out in front of him for Patrick to try. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Patrick bites down on possibly the most perfect cake he’s ever eaten, David winks at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look incredible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Patrick looks back at him fondly. It’s moments like this that remind him of why he transplanted his life to this strange little town. How remarkable it is, to be seen for all that you are. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading 💜 You can find me on tumblr <a href="https://kindofspecificstore.tumblr.com/">@kindofspecificstore</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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